Page 33 of Give Me Love

“For reaching over you.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“Well, I do,” he bites.

I flinch. “Geez.”

He rubs his eyes and exhales, seeming to be at war with himself. “I’m sorry. I…” He rubs his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” I reply as I watch him.

He starts the car, and I grab the belt before clicking it into place. I lean back in the seat, watching the traffic pass, my mind spinning and my eyes feeling heavy. Mod Sun’s “Runaway” plays on the radio, his soft voice crooning, making my eyes drift closed.

I’m out.

Chapter Six

Kathrine

Buttery gold rays shine bright behind my lids and I stretch my arms out and roll over.

“Ahh.” I hit the floor with a hard thump and my eyes shoot open. Wincing, I lift my head up and blow hair from my face.Where the hell am I?

I push from the floor and get to my knees. Spotting my clutch on the table across from me, I reach over and grab it, taking my phone and swiping the screen.

Geez, my mouth tastes like a night out. I lick my lips as I look back to my purse and spot a piece of gum.

Claire has called and texted more than a few times. “Shit.” I pop the gum into my mouth.

She’s probably called the police. I hit dial on her number, chewing as I do. She answers on the first ring.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Oh, I’m past that. I’ve already gone through five different stages of emotions here, Kathrine. Wondering, worried, frantic. Upset.”

“Where are you now?” I ask, looking at my surroundings.

“Pissed.”

I cringe. “Sorry, I’m trying to figure things out here.”

“Figure things out?” she asks.

“Yes, I’m not sure where I’m located.”

“What?” she screeches.

“Calm down. I know I rode home with Bryce last night. I remember eating, but then I guess I fell asleep, so I have to be at his house.”

“You fell asleep in a stranger’s car?”

“Well, I wouldn’t really call him a stranger, Claire.” I roll my eyes as I head over to the kitchen in search of water.

“You just met the man, Kat. How can you possibly know enough about him to not call him a stranger?”

“I know he’s into horse racing, he owns a club, and he’s thirty-three,” I say all matter-of-factly. I smile when I spot the glasses in one of the cabinets. Bingo.

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